


Reluctance

by Eriakit



Series: Saeri Verse [2]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Dailies, Dailies into Fic, Gen, Isle of Thunder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:59:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriakit/pseuds/Eriakit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It helps no one to think these things, least of all herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reluctance

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to experiment. Present tense, which I usually hate. Taking dailies and writing them into a story. Lots of things.

 

_Traitors._

The Reagent Lord himself gave her these orders. He doesn't seem to feel any reluctance, but Saeri does. She thinks she might be the only one to feel this way. Think this way. No matter what they did, no matter who they have allied themselves with, no matter what lies they believe... the Kirin Tor elves are still just that: elves. There are families, even now, that are split by choices and loyalties. Sometimes she thinks that she might be one of the lucky ones, to have lost all of her family before her people turned against each other for the sake of old promises.

She wishes she could make them _see_. See that the Horde has done more for them than the Alliance ever did, despite Hellscream's mess. Saeri never could understand how they could have remained tethered to the Alliance. Traitorous little weaklings.

And worse than going against their Prince - insane though he may have been in the end - they again chose to follow pathetic, petty humans. Follow the Proudmore bitch into her crusade against the Horde, not just against Hellscream and his rabid lapdogs. _It is almost funny._ she thinks. _The Quel'Dorei called us idiotic for following a mad Prince, and now they follow a mad Lady. And they had our example to learn from._

Saeri sighs. It helps no one to think these things, least of all herself.

_Cowards._

It makes her ill to kill them, to feel the magic in their veins pour out over her hands along with their blood. The feel of all that power escaping, rushing silently along her skin, gives her a sick little thrill. But that isn't the worst of it. Nor is it looting their corpses, oddly enough. Saeri calmly rifles through packs, takes any changepurse she sees - even ransacks the tents - without any issue. That bit is just business.

No, the worst part is when they _run_.

She always catches them. Always. Her orders are clear, and she will follow them. (She wonders, sometimes, why she does. Why she suddenly feels _loyalty_ to the Regent Lord, to her people, for the first time in years. Sometimes, she blames paladins and their meddling. Most times she blames life and all it's subtle cruelties.) They die whether they run or not. But when they run, they die cowards.

It makes her sick when they run.

_Lapdogs._

They follow their Lady so well. Guard her little spellbooks and her pathetically crude creations. Saeri focuses on that, on how weak they must be. It makes it easier to put them out of their misery.

She carries out all of her orders. She sabotages shipments (she's always been good at sabotage, it's nice to have her talents put to good use) and destroys wards. She steals objects of worth or power. And most importantly, she puts down any of Proudmore's lapdogs who get in her way.

She returns triumphant each time they send her out. She thinks she might be becoming a favorite to several of her superiors. She is certainly a favorite of the Magi, as she always makes certain to bring them at least one impressive trinket from the enemy camp. She grins and flirts with them, says _I brought a new toy for my pretties!_ and thinks _Do you even care that this still has an elf's blood on it?_

She's paid well, takes her reward money and feels as if she has accomplished something. She gives Lanesh a bit of extra coin, since he does such a good job mending her leathers. She heads to a city as soon as she can and earns even more from the little treasures she found during her day of mayhem and plunder. 

The bartenders all know her by now. In Orgrimmar, in Silvermoon, in Undercity, they all get an excited gleam in their eye when she walks in. They're right to; with her tolerance, it takes a great deal of booze - and therefore a great deal of money - to get her drunk enough to forget the feeling of blood and magic sinking into her skin.

In the morning she'll blame the hangover for the nausea. It's always easiest to lie when there's a convincing cover story.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Saeri is a blood elf rogue in-game, on a non-rp server. She's actually kind of really fucked up emotionally, but she's getting a bit better. A little.
> 
> I'll get into it more in another fic :)


End file.
